


Crossroads

by Aquila_Star



Series: Powers of Persuasion [11]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, More Feels, more smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6654631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Star/pseuds/Aquila_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The House of Beorn is a sanctuary, unlooked for. Bilbo is just happy he's no longer sleeping in a pile of Dwarves. One is plenty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossroads

Bilbo awoke to a hot, hard body pressed against his back and broad hands running across his body. Lips were on the back of his neck, laying light kisses and rougher bites in turn as he was stroked all over, his back, his legs, around and over his hips, across his belly and up to his chest. One hand gripped his neck and paused, pressing him back into that hot mouth while a steel shaft rubbed forcefully into his rear. 

He couldn't help but moan wantonly, his morning erection quickly hardening into a real one as Thorin pressed him down into the cushions with the fervour of his desire. Bilbo loved this. Loved the heavy weight of Thorin atop him, the greediness of his hands and the desperation of his mouth, seeking out every part of Bilbo that he could reach. 

Giving this up was going to be hard. 

But right now, the only hard things Bilbo were concerned about were well in hand. Literally. Thorin had reached around him and was squeezing and pulling at his shaft even as he pressed against Bilbo's entrance. And then, he sunk his cock into Bilbo, smoothly, with only the slightest of burns.

“Ah, Thorin,” Bilbo cried, griping the cushion beneath his head with white knuckles, hanging on for dear life as Thorin's hand and cock and the heavy press of his body brought him quickly to the point of no return. 

“Yes, Bilbo,” Thorin replied, growling the words into his ear. Thorin's hair was surrounding them like a veil, the tickle of it on his skin did nothing to ease his frustration, only adding to the sensations he was awash in. When his hole clamped down on Thorin's cock and his own pulsed in Thorin's hand, he let out a guttural moan that ripped though his chest and out of his mouth. The sound was soon absorbed into Thorin's mouth, as he pulled back on Bilbo's hair and took him in a rough kiss, not even a kiss, more an open mouthed tongue bath. It was only a few moments later that Thorin followed, filling Bilbo for the second time in a few short hours. Considering that they'd had to go without for a week, they certainly were making up for lost time. 

Long minutes passed as they lay in the dimness of the storage room, the only light coming from under the door. Bilbo's limbs felt heavy, and, as sore as he was, he hadn't felt as content in a very long time. He couldn't remember a time he'd felt this way. As a matter of fact, he never had. All of his sexual experiences in the Shire had been lovely, ranging from tweenish fumbling to more mature romps, but nothing in his life had ever prepared him for how intense such a relationship could be. That was the difference between a young lover and a more experienced one, apparently. 

It was also the difference between a Hobbit lover and one who was a Dwarf. The fact was, Hobbits were not made the same way...they were much more inclined to slower, more comfortable lovemaking. Even the fumbles of youth were much less fervent and energetic than the shortest of encounters Bilbo had experienced with Thorin. Few Hobbits would be interested in such an athletic, all consuming sexual relationship, but Bilbo had never been an ordinary Hobbit. 

His current situation proved that most definitely. 

“Now that,” Bilbo said once he'd been able to catch his breath, “is my favourite way to wake up.”

Thorin's chuckled reverberated through Bilbo, sending goosebumps over his skin, still pressed together as they were. Thorin had shifted to the side, to allow Bilbo the ability to draw air into his lungs, but his cock was still firmly pressed inside Bilbo's slack hole. 

“I'd wake you like that every morning if I could,” he replied, nuzzling the too long strands that curled over Bilbo's neck. “For as long as you wish it.”

Again, Thorin's words left an unsettled feeling in Bilbo's gut, but then he moved, sliding back and forth inside Bilbo, his cock only half hard but the sensations were still there. Thorin was big enough that it didn't matter. 

And then, it did matter. Bilbo could feel Thorin hardening. Again. 

“Eru,” Bilbo said, his voice a whisper, his breathing growing fast again. It had only been a few minutes, ten, maybe fifteen. How could Thorin be ready again so soon?

“How, uhhh...how are you ready...again, how...” Bilbo stuttered, the member inside him stretching him once more, this time from the inside. It was a unique sensation, one Bilbo hadn't been prepared for. 

“This is what you do to me, amralime,” Thorin murmured in his ear, pulling Bilbo onto his side, his movements slower this time around. “I just can't help myself when you're naked and wet beside me.”

Thorin's hands were moving as well, one dancing across Bilbo's chest, rubbing against nipples that had never been so sensitive before, but now, in Bilbo's hypersensitive state, they were hard and peaked, sensitive to the insistence of Thorin's fingers. His other hand was gently squeezing Bilbo’s softened cock and, amazingly, it was responding to Thorin's ministrations. 

This was nothing like anything they'd done before. Before, it had always been more...frantic. It had been faster, blistering passion running hot and fierce, even when they'd had time to spare. 

But this...this was something else. No less passionate, no less needful, but languid, purposeful. Thorin's lips were tender against Bilbo's neck, pulling the skin into his mouth softly, his breath hot against the wet skin he left behind. 

Thorin took his time. His fingers and mouth worked in concert with his cock, playing Bilbo like an instrument, and for the first time, Bilbo believed the stories he'd been told by Thorin's nephews, stories that told of their Uncle's much lauded skill with the harp. He was plucking Bilbo's nerves with practised skill, drawing feelings out that he'd never imagined were possible.

Bilbo had no idea how long they were at it, only that, when they were done, when Thorin came inside him, when he found the edge of Bilbo's release and nudged him off it, Bilbo was left nearly insensate.

When he came back to himself, Thorin was still beside him, his face slack with sleep, his limbs heavy across Bilbo's chest and legs. Bilbo stared at him for far longer than was justifiable, perhaps. He reached out, carefully so as not to awaken him, pulling back the hairs that had been trapped under Thorin's cheek, and tucking them back with the rest, spread across his broad back. His hand lingered, brushing across the thick beard that covered Thorin's cheeks and chin. It was much softer than it appeared, dense and black and alarmingly attractive. 

Bilbo was a Hobbit, and, as a rule, Hobbits did not find facial hair at all alluring. And yet, Bilbo could not deny that Thorin's beard was perfect. It framed his strong jaw, pulling Bilbo's gaze to his red, lustrous lips. It made him look distinguished, potent, powerful. Bilbo had never given any thought to what a beard could do for a face before, but he knew now that he would never dismiss it again. Thorin was as beautiful in sleep as he was awake, but without his brilliant eyes shining from within, he seemed more vulnerable, and so, so much younger than is 195 years. 

Bilbo turned away, his chest tight and his stomach roiling, his head filled with Thorin and all that had happened. It was too much to take in all at once, so he rolled away, carefully displacing the dead weight that was Thorin's limbs. His bladder was calling to him at any rate, his stomach not far behind. 

 

* * * 

 

Thorin was alone with he woke for the second time that morning. The space beside him may be empty, but his heart and mind were full, filled up with the sensations of being with Bilbo. 

“Mahal,” he whispered in shaky Khuzdul, his eyes drifting closed with reverence. “Thank you for bringing him to me. Please, if it be possible, let me keep him. I will do everything in my power to endeavour to deserve him. You know how I need him, as it is you who have carved him for me. I begin to understand your plan, to understand why you've carved my One from the earth and not from stone. Stone is unyielding, it will break with enough pressure, but earth...earth is malleable, alive and enduring and fertile. Earth brings forth life, and anything planted will grow there. You have planted my heart within him, oh Creator, and I will water it and watch it grow in his keeping. I will make myself worthy of him.”

With that prayer in his heart and mind, Thorin pulled himself out of the nest he'd made for them, folding the blankets and putting away the cushions, fully prepared to take them out again that night. For now, he heard the voices of his Company on the other side of the door, and if that wasn't enough incentive to leave, his aching stomach would be. 

Surprisingly, he found very few of the others in the kitchen. Some were washing up, in the room toward the back of the house, built for that purpose, some were lazing around where they'd bedded down, chatting or dozing. Many were seated at the table, eating or chatting, but only Dwalin was in the kitchen proper. 

Thorin approached him with a nod, reaching past to take a handful of nuts from the bag in Dwalin's hand. They munched for a moment in silence, before Dwalin broke it, broaching the topic Thorin knew had been coming. Dwalin had yet to say anything about his relationship with Bilbo, but Thorin had known all along that the reprieve would be short lived. Dwalin would speak when he felt the need to speak, and not before. 

“So when will ye make an honest Hobbit out of him?” he asked, giving Thorin a look that spoke volumes more than his words. The look told him in no uncertain terms that Dwalin believed he should have already. It may have been surprising to many, but Dwalin was a traditionalist, and was unlikely to approach a relationship from the back end, as he would consider Thorin's path to be. 

“I...don't think he's interested in all of that,” Thorin replied, a sick feeling settling into his stomach that had nothing to do with his only mildly sated hunger. 

“Really? Why not?” Dwalin demanded with a frown. 

“Because he's never given any indication of such. Because he's still set on going home after the quest is done. But mostly, because I've hardly given him a reason to accept me.”

“He sounded pretty accepting last night,” Dwalin commented wryly, staring side eyed at Thorin. “And this morning.”

“Yes, well,” Thorin couldn't deny that. Bilbo was always accepting...when it came to the sexual side of things. “That's different.”

“Why?”

“Because is is, Dwalin, “ Thorin insisted. “He doesn't love me, for one thing.”

“But you love him?”

“Aye, I do. He was carved for me, I'm certain.”

Dwalin took a step back and looked at Thorin with wide eyes. 

“Indeed? Well, that settles things,” he said at last.

“No, it doesn't. He's not a Dwarf. Hobbits don't love as we do.” Thorin felt the painful truth of his statement in his gut.

“But if he was carved for you, then he'll be feeling it, too,” Dwalin insisted. Thorin had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Dwalin was a traditionalist and quite the romantic, really. 

“And I hope he will. I don't believe he feels it now, but if I deserve him, perhaps in time, he will.”

“It's an awfully big gamble,” Dwalin said, and all Thorin could do was agree. 

“It is,” he said. “But it's a gamble I'll have to make. I can't take my heart back now, Dwalin, no matter what happens.”

“Hmmph,” was all Dwalin had to say in reply to that, but Thorin was saved from any further remarks by the much appreciated interruption of Gandalf. 

Their host was in the yard, and it was time to meet him.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a bit of a short one. Hopefully the next one will be longer and not too long in coming, either. But this is a busy week here, so I think my 'one a day' posting schedule is going to take a hit. Ahh well, it couldn't last. I'm writing as I go, so there's no padding, as it were.


End file.
